


Needy

by flootzavut



Series: Jaws [3]
Category: NCIS
Genre: First Time, Friends to Lovers, Interstitial, M/M, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5370266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony earns his pledge name the old-fashioned way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needy

**Author's Note:**

> Optional smutty interstitial, set between Close the Beaches and We're Gonna Need a Bigger Couch. If you prefer to avoid explicit things, everything that's necessary story wise is in "We're Gonna Need..."

* * *

_**Needy** _

* * *

  

Kissing Tony was proving to be a fairly all-encompassing activity. He was everywhere and everything, good but overwhelming. It was pretty difficult to get him out of his clothes at the same time.

Eventually Tim pushed him away and yanked pointedly at his buttons. Between them they got rid of Tony's shirt, then it seemed Tony's patience had run out as he dived back into Tim's mouth. At least it made Tim feel less exposed now Tony was half undressed, and as he became less self-conscious, he started to enjoy it more.

He wouldn't admit it in a million years, but Tim got so utterly caught up in being kissed, he all but forgot about anything that wasn't Tony. Tony's body pinning him to the couch, Tony's lips and tongue against his, Tony's cock pressing into his thigh and Tony's broad, muscular back under his hands. It was all surprisingly, shockingly good.

The feel of Tony's hand moving slowly up his leg didn't register as anything but another enjoyable sensation in the mix, then suddenly it was cupping Tim through his boxers and was all Tim could think about.

Tony pulled back from the kiss and grinned. "Huh. Well, whaddya know, Tim, you really do have a huge-"

He yanked Tony down again, felt the laughter in his mouth, and didn't even care as long as Tony kept doing what he was doing, preferably without narration. Then Tony's hand slipped inside his underwear for a moment, and he gasped.

Tony chuckled again. "All right with you if I give you the best orgasm you've ever had?" he murmured against Tim's lips, and Tim was sure it should, at the very least, make him roll his eyes at the arrogance of the man, but instead he panted and nodded. "Good." Tony shifted his weight, and now his erection was pressing into Tim's instead of his hand.

"Oh, fuck," murmured Tim.

"Doing my best." Tony rocked his hips and thrust against Tim's crotch, and there was something unexpectedly delicious about all that hard promise rubbing together through their remaining clothing, as Tony efficiently stripped Tim's t-shirt off and pressed himself down into Tim's body.

Tim'd expected to be at least a little weirded out to feel Tony's skin against his, but Tony was kissing him again, running his hands up and down Tim's ribcage, and it was just a lot of delicious naked skin. Tim didn't have the concentration to find it odd the nakedness was male-flavoured.

Then Tony started to kiss his way down Tim's neck, and his hands slipped back into Tim's boxers and started to slide them down. Tim was caught, confused, between 'Oh my God,  _Tony's_  gonna see me  _naked!_ ' and the need to have Tony keep touching him, but it didn't stop him canting his hips up off the couch so Tony could pull his boxers over his ass, and it didn't stop him from whimpering as Tony's teeth teased a nipple.

He was naked almost before he knew what was happening, didn't have time to worry too much and there he was, his body on display, his erection advertising exactly how much he was enjoying this, nervous and hopeful and embarrassed and turned on all at once.

Tony sat up, grinning at him like all his birthdays had come at once. "Well hey there, McStudmuffin," he said softly. His grin grew wider. "So, Tim."

He wrapped his hand around Tim's cock and tugged gently, too gently and not nearly tight enough, a deliberate tease that made Tim gasp, and his expression was 'I'm going to eat you alive', simultaneously terrifying and so overtly sexual Tim gulped.

Tony leaned in close. "Do you trust me?" he breathed, his expression both intense and surprisingly eager.

It was a simple question, with a simple answer, but Tim gaped at Tony like a stunned goldfish. 'Do you trust me?'

Tony's eyes were dark and wanting, his breath warm against Tim's mouth, and then he looked down at Tim's crotch, slowly and deliberately licked his lips, as if he just couldn't _wait_ to get busy with his tongue, as if he was imagining it already and the thought was too delicious to resist.

'Do you trust me?' Did he? He trusted Tony to glue his fingers to his keyboard. He trusted Tony to tease him about, well,  _everything_. He trusted Tony to drive him up the wall but also to make him laugh. He trusted Tony to have his back in a gunfight and to follow him into danger.

Did he trust Tony enough for this? It was suddenly so obvious his head was nodding before he had time to second guess it, and 'Yes' slipped out of his mouth, quiet and nervous but definite. "Yeah, I trust you, Tony."

"Good. I'm gonna blow your CPU, McGeek."

Tim couldn't help laughing. Tony talking tech? Who would've believed it? And then Tony's hand was wrapping more firmly around his erection, and he let out a groan. "Oh, God."

It was Tony's turn to laugh as he leaned down to lick Tim's other nipple. "No, but I'll make sure you see him." Then his mouth was too occupied for more cheeky comments, and Tim might've taken a second to be grateful if he wasn't so distracted by Tony's lips and tongue and teeth.

He watched, shocked and fascinated and desperate, as Tony kissed down his belly, buried his nose in Tim's happy trail for a long moment, grinned wide, and then at long last his mouth reached Tim's cock.

Tim gasped as Tony laid a line of teasingly soft kisses up the side of his erection, then whined and bucked desperately as Tony licked a drop of fluid off the head, slow and with a noise of relish which vibrated against already sensitised skin and made him feel like he might burst.

Then, to Tim's eternal gratitude, Tony's hands were on his balls and his backside, and Tony's mouth was wrapping around his cock, warm and soft and welcoming, and he might actually die from how good it was.

Part of him wanted to let his head fall back, to close his eyes, to forget who exactly was making him feel this way, because it was just so weird and surreal.

But Tony was watching his face, green eyes shading darker and darker, and Tim found he couldn't look away, couldn't do anything but watch Tony watch him, spellbound and disbelieving and incredibly fucking turned on, not despite but because of the fact it was  _Tony's_  mouth on him.

The scientific, analytical part of his brain noticed Tony was very good at this, knew exactly where to lick and when to suck and how best to work a cock to make its owner's brain drip out of his ears, and wondered if he was good because he'd had a lot of practice, or if it was because he'd been on the receiving end and knew what did and didn't feel good, or both.

The rest of him was just reeling and dying and ready to explode, and didn't care where Tony had come by this hitherto unknown talent as long as he kept doing what he was doing. Tim could feel his orgasm building, knew he wasn't going to last much longer, and tugged on Tony's hair in warning.

He wasn't really sure why he expected Tony would back off, wouldn't want Tim to come in his mouth, but to his surprise, Tony redoubled his hold instead, licked and sucked harder. Then Tim was coming, his body juddering and shaking, finally unable to keep his eyes open any longer as his orgasm broke over him in waves, and Tony was taking it all, swallowing again and again, humming his approval over Tim's nerve endings, leaving him a gasping mess.

"Oh, God," he whispered, when he was done. He patted Tony's head awkwardly, hoped it would come across as 'Thank you', and sank back against the couch, wiped out, his muscles turned into jell-o and his bones into plasticine.

He vaguely felt Tony moving around, let out a pathetic whimper when Tony cleaned him up with a wet flannel, but mostly he was just trying to breathe and not let his head fall off. Then Tony crawled back up his body, dotting nips and nibbles here and there, before kissing his mouth deeply, then pulling away to grin, a classic DiNozzo pleased-with-himself grin, not a little smug, still undeniably fond.

"All right?" Tony's expression said clear as day that he knew 'All right' was a ridiculous understatement, but Tim thought he should be grateful for small mercies; he'd half expected some comment about how long it  _hadn't_  taken for Tony to blow his head off.

"Wow," he managed.

Tony grinned wider. "You're welcome. Been wanting to do that for  _ages_."

"Really?"

"Really." He winked. "D'you have any idea how hard it was, in the elevator today, you looking all dapper and dressed up, not just thinking 'Screw it', flipping the emergency stop and making you come in my mouth?"

Tim blinked a few times and swallowed hard. "Really?"

Tony nodded lazily and licked his lips, leaned in closer. "Next time," he breathed, "I'm not gonna bother trying to resist, okay?"

Tim swallowed a few more times. "Okay." He was, he realised, shockingly up for an elevator blowjob. Or really whenever and wherever Tony felt like doing that. After all, he'd had sex in a coffin, and while sex with Abby had been very enjoyable, if this was a sampling, he thought sex with Tony might actually be better.

And then he tried to push that weird, disturbing thought as far as he could into the back of his mind where it couldn't do any damage, and hoped he wouldn't accidentally admit it out loud. Bad enough he was so eager to sleep with Tony. It was definitely better for his sanity (and physical wellbeing) if neither Tony nor Abby ever found out how they compared.

Tony had flopped down beside him, his head resting companionably on Tim's shoulder, his hand idly stroking Tim's chest, and it was surprisingly pleasant, though it occurred to Tim it seemed unfair Tony still had his pants on. When he'd recovered somewhat, he reached out and tentatively ran his hand over Tony's belly. Tony let out a rumble against his neck which Tim took to be approval, so he let his hand move lower, till it was on Tony's cock. This elicited a gasp and a lower, more heartfelt rumble, followed by a decided moan, and Tim grinned as he stroked.

Encouraged by the success of this experiment, Tim turned on his side and fumbled with Tony's fly, his hands shaky, suddenly both nervous and excited. Tony moaned again, and bit down surprisingly sharply on Tim's neck as Tim struggled to get into his pants. He couldn't figure out if it was him or if the pants were some new, complicated type, but eventually Tony let out a growl and slapped Tim's hands away.

"Damnit, McGee, are you  _trying_  to torture me?" he asked irritably, as he deftly undid the fly, and then Tim was taking advantage of Tony's superior man-undressing skills and Tony groaned and buried his head back in Tim's shoulder as Tim stroked him through his boxers. "God, yeah, that's it, Tim, that's  _it_."

The tension in his voice had melted away as quickly as it appeared, and Tim felt unexpectedly proud of himself for the noises he was coaxing out of Tony, gasps and moans, ragged and desperately needy.

Tony pushed his pants down and off, all the while bucking into Tim's grip, and Tim couldn't help chuckling. Apparently when it came to sex, Tony was a champion multi-tasker, which really shouldn't be a big surprise.

He was still breathing heavily and making sounds of hunger and want in Tim's ear, and Tim had never thought he had any interest in Tony's sex noises, in fact would have gone out of his way to avoid hearing them, but it turned out they were... really very hot. And at the same time Tim was glad it was  _him_  coaxing these sounds out of Tony's mouth, and he didn't want to think about the possibility of someone else doing it.

He wanted... he wanted to keep doing this and to make Tony's head fall off and he just wanted  _more_. His inner scientist pointed out he was getting better results the fewer layers of clothing there were between them, and he couldn't fault the logic. It seemed like a reasonable next step.

He took a deep breath, nervous but determined, and slid his hands into Tony's boxer shorts to touch another man's cock for the first time in his life. He hadn't been sure what to expect, how it would feel, whether he'd be grossed out by it, but it turned out to be... okay.

He pushed Tony's underwear down so he could actually see what he was doing, barely noticed Tony kick the boxers off the rest of the way, his attention irrevocably caught by Tony's erection, hard and thick, and all because of  _him_.

With another gulp, he wrapped his hand firmly around it. It felt oddly familiar in his hand, different but somehow also the same. He chuckled to himself. Who knew all the practice a teenaged Tim McGee had done in the shower, in bed, pretty much anywhere he could get some privacy, would ever pay off this way? He suddenly felt a lot more confident.

He looked up, and grinned. Tony's face was strained, his eyes screwed shut. "Please, Tim, for the love of-"

Tim laughed, squeezed, then laughed again at the combined sound of relief and desperation as he started to move his hand, and the surprisingly high-pitched whimpers of pleasure as he continued.

He was glad he was hearing them for the first time in his own ear, because of him, not through some insufficiently soundproofed wall or door. These were  _his_  noises, he thought fuzzily, not certain why he cared so much but unwilling to contemplate sharing them.

Tony shook his head into Tim's shoulder and moaned. "Oh God, Tim... wanted... all night... can't-"

Tim laughed, not just at Tony's failure to make sentences, but because he realised he knew exactly what Tony was saying.

"It's okay, Tony, I won't take this as any indication of your sexual prowess or staying power, all right? I promise."

He could feel Tony sag with relief, and laughed again. Stupid, ridiculous man, worried about his reputation in the midst of a handjob, and it was silly and vain and- really weirdly endearing, Tim realised. It was so... so  _Tony_  of him, and it was familiar and absurd, and reminded Tim how fond he was of this idiot he was currently jerking off.

"You're an idiot," he murmured, as if this was news to either of them, and Tony nodded emphatically. Tim wasn't sure if it was genuine agreement or if Tony would agree to anything right now as long as Tim didn't stop.

"Just... please..."

Tim chuckled, kept moving, let his thumb tease circles around the head of Tony's cock, until abruptly Tony was groaning and his body was shaking, and he was coming apart in and over Tim's hand, moaning brokenly into Tim's neck.

Tim managed to edge his other hand free enough to wrap around Tony's shoulders, wanting the contact, the reassurance, still confused by all the emotions churning around in his chest and stomach, but feeling better for having someone he trusted to cling to.

Eventually Tony peeled his face away from Tim's skin, and looked up, blinking, wide-eyed and swallowing hard, like he'd been thoroughly undone. Tim wanted to feel smug or at least proud of himself for having left Tony 'Sex Machine' DiNozzo  _speechless_ , but he couldn't think around the inexplicable surge of affection, the way he just wanted to hold on tight.

Before Tim could get it together enough to find the flannel and clean them both up, Tony was pressing him back into the couch and kissing him again, hard and long, his hands cradling Tim's jaw as he nibbled Tim's lips, then his fingers tracing tenderly over Tim's cheeks and up into his hair, his tongue exploring Tim's mouth as if it was the first or maybe last time he'd ever get to do so.

When he finally drew away (after a series of smaller kisses like he couldn't quite bear to stop), it took a long moment for Tim to catch his breath and open his eyes. Tony was gazing down at him, and now there was no trace of smugness or triumph on his face, just an affectionate, hopeful smile.

"Hey, Tim," he said softly.

Tim blinked, taken aback by the kiss. "Hey, Tony."

Tony looked down at him for a few more seconds, then he retrieved the flannel and carefully mopped his come off of Tim's hands and body and then off his own. He got up from the couch, stood for a moment, looking indecisive, then held up a finger.

"Don't go anywhere," he ordered, and if Tim had been able to get his vocal cords to cooperate, he would've pointed out this was  _his_  apartment, and the only one likely to be going anywhere was Tony. But he was still in a daze, so he just nodded dumbly and waited until Tony reappeared with a comforter from his bedroom.

He was pretty sure it would make much more sense to move them to his bed, that this couch hadn't really been designed for one person to sleep on, let alone two, but he wasn't sure he could quite make himself invite  _Tony_  into  _his bed_ , and he equally didn't, despite his common sense throwing quite the hissy fit, want to send Tony away.

So he let Tony snuggle back in beside and on top of him, let himself be tucked in, then decided screw it, and wrapped his arms around Tony's body. It had been a while since he'd had someone to share his bed (or his couch), and it was... nice, to have a warm, naked body curled up into his. Even if he was still a bit bemused by how it had turned out to be a man's body, let alone  _Tony's_.

He'd sort of expected that particular fact to keep him awake. Then Tony kissed the side of his neck and nuzzled in, and it was comfortable and kind of  _sweet_ , and he couldn't help but relax.

"'Night, McDreamy," Tony murmured into his skin, and Tim smiled at the nickname, which didn't strike him as nearly so odd as it had just a few hours ago.

"'Night, Tony." Confused but most definitely satiated, and oddly happy, Tim drifted off into sleep.

_~ fin ~_


End file.
